


Party Lily

by psc07



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 22:23:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17650997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psc07/pseuds/psc07
Summary: In which Lily is moping, Mary can't take anymore of that, Remus needs to take the girls to a birthday party, and Lily trashes the party to a stranger.





	Party Lily

Lily did _not_ want to go to that party.

Not that she doesn’t like parties, as a whole. On the contrary – she’s rather fond of such gatherings, considering how much fun she always has.

Mary likes parties, too. Mostly when Lily goes to, because Mary says Lily can turn even the lamest parties on memorable moments, like on Edgar Bones’s birthday all those years ago, when everybody tried to leave because no one was enjoying it and out of nowhere Lily created a cards game that got everybody so involved that the first person left only 4 in the morning (the fact that the loser had to drink enormous amounts of alcohol and divulge some secret _might_ have helped, but Mary always seemed to forget these little things).

That particular Friday, however, she just didn’t want to leave the comfort of her bed and interact with the outside world. Such behaviours tend to happen when one has just lost their childhood best friend one week prior.

“Mary, I told you I’m _not_ going to some bloody bar!” She says as she hears a knock on her door.

“Good thing I wasn’t inviting you to a bar, then,” a familiar voice says, and she hears the smile on his voice.

“Oh. Come on in, then, Rem.”

She had met Remus Lupin in a book club when they were both 17, and coincidently, they started attending the same university, which contributed for their stronger friendship.

“Everything alright?” He asks, hands on his pockets, leaning against her door frame after closing it. “Haven’t heard much of you since last week.”

“I…” Lily hesitates, sitting on her bed.

“You don’t need to lie to me,” he reminds her. She knows that, but the instinct to not share this is immediate, “and you also don’t need to tell me what’s going on. Just wondered if something happened.”

Lily sighs.

“Well, d’you remember Sev?”

“Hm, weird fella, dark hair, hook nose, seemed to hate me?” Remus guesses.

“Yeah, that one.”

“What about him? You guys are super close, right?”

Lily sighs again. Then she tells Remus how they hadn’t been that close for a while now, mostly because Sev had found other friends on college. Lily would have literally _zero_ problems with that – she wasn’t immature enough to think she would be Sev’s only friend forever – if not for the fact that those friends usually sputtered some rather prejudiced things.

Not directed at any group, no. It was more directed to _a lot_ of people – gays, black people, immigrants and, more recently, women.

On the few occasions Lily had bumped into these friends of Sev’s, she’d stood up to her believes (“really, Timmy? You’re _literally_ using a 2-thousand-year-old book to justify your bullshit?”). Severus hadn’t liked it and asked her to refrain from such comments. Lily raised her eyebrows and let go. Maybe he was having a hard time to adjust on a new college, considering both of them had started just a year before and Sev was really introspective.

As Severus spent more time with his Trash Troup (Lily always loved a good alliteration), she felt a wall building between them. It was hard to put on words, and it was even harder to get Severus to listen – he didn’t get why she just couldn’t hang out with them and _not_ turn everything into a “politically correct” debate.

_She_ didn’t get how he could stand listening to such gibberish for so long.

Then last week she did.

They had agreed to meet on a pub – sans the Trash Troup – have a beer and talk like they did before. Severus was running really late, and she started to worry. As she was about to call him, Severus entered the pub, dragging along Mulciber and Avery – both of them who previously had said hateful things about women in general.

She managed to not roll her eyes, but couldn’t quite smile the way she used to when they met at the booth she had sat.

“I thought it would be just the two of us?” She asked quietly.

“Sorry to intrude in your little date thing,” Avery interrupted rudely, “but imagine how bad it would look to him to be seen on a pub with you?”

“And just _what_ is that supposed to mean?” Lily snapped.

“Well, what kind of respectable woman goes to a pub anyway?” Mulciber questioned.

“The one who can do whatever she wants.” Lily replied instantly. She glanced at Severus, as if to say, ‘see what I mean about them?’, and found a speculative look about him.

“Well, these sorts of girls aren’t respectable, Evans,” Avery said, “you should know that by now. Oh, I forgot you were a pain on the arse with your feminist views.”

“Well, you’re free to leave as you please, Avery. _You_ weren’t invited at all.”

“Lost cause, Snape. We should really leave. This place is full of sluts,” Mulciber said with disgust.

“Sluts?” Lily asked, fists clenched.

“Well, yeah, Lily,” Severus talks for the first time, “look at their short skirts. They’re begging to be raped.”

Lily gaped and then glared at him. For the first time she heard him say things like that. At once, she got up and gestured at herself.

“Then what am I, Severus?”

His eyes widened as he saw Lily’s wearing a short skirt herself, then he glared at her.

“A slut, just like them.”

That was the last time Lily spoke to Severus. He tried apologising – her mobile was full of messages from him, but she would not return to that toxicity (or at least she told herself she wouldn’t).

Remus only raises his eyebrows as Lily talks. By the end, he’s sitting on the chair in front of her, brow furrowed.

“I’m sorry, Lily,” Remus says, and just then Mary enters the room.

“Oh, came to drag her along too, did you?” Mary asks Remus.

“Drag me along to where?” Lily asks in an alarmed voice. Mary rolls her eyes.

“He came over to invite us to a _party_ , Lily! At a fancy house, even! Let’s pretty ourselves up for the occasion, eh?”

“You _know_ I’m not on the mood, Mary,” Lily replies, laying back down on her bed.

“She’s been like this for a week now,” Mary tells Remus, ignoring Lily’s presence on _Lily’s_ own bedroom, “because of that scumbag Snape. I’ve tried it all. Maybe you’ll be luckier?”

Lily hears the door snapping shut, and knows Mary left her to Remus’s device, which Lily thinks to be rather unfair, considering she can’t say _no_ to Remus.

Remus was never the healthiest of people, ever since he was little kid. For this, he wasn’t really fit to play with the other kids, so he stayed inside and read. This led into him joining a book club when he was seventeen-years-old – in which he met Lily.

He is smart and funny; Lily loved to sit by his side so she could listen to his quiet and sarcastic comments during the club. Once she told him exactly that, and he laughed, saying he’d try to come up with new material every day.

Since then, they became very good friends, even after the book club had be shut down. Sometimes Lily noticed that Remus wasn’t looking all too good, so she sent him a pack of his favourite tea and a book recommendation.

Remus tried to make it up to her, but she adamantly refused.

She always insisted on taking Remus out, making him have fun and not mope and hide. She took him to parties and bars (whenever those friends of his allowed, that is).

And now Remus – bless him, curse him – seems to be trying to do the same with her.

“It’s a birthday party. I’m supposed to bring friends,” he explains, and Lily groans, hiding her face, “so I thought I should bring the friend who always drags me to such events.”

The brilliance of Remus is that he can make someone feel obliged to do something with the softest of words. With a single sentence he made Lily feel guilty for dragging him to places he wasn’t really into going, and to deny the same favour to him.

“You, Remus Lupin,” Lily says, taking the blanket off her face and glaring at the now grinning boy, “are a danger with your words. But you know that already. Ok, I’ll go to this bloody party, but be warned: I’m _not_ gonna have fun, I _don’t_ want to go, and I’ll _hate_ every second I’m there.”

Despite such harsh promises, Lily dresses like she usually does. Mary did mention something about it being fancy.

“Whose party is this anyway?” She asks as she and Mary enter Remus’s sedan.

“One of my mates’ mother,” Remus replies, starting the car, “I’ve been told by her that if I don’t bring you I won’t be allowed to stay.”

“How does your friend’s mother know me anyway?” Lily asks, and Remus grins in reply.

“Well, Mrs. Euphemia Potter follows me on Instagram, and she saw that story I posted last month.”

“Oh. So now she thinks we’re dating?”

“At first. I’ve explained that you’re just a friend.” Remus clarifies and shrugs. “She still said I had to bring you, as you are, her words not mine, ‘incredibly gorgeous’ and also ‘seems to be a very nice and polite girl’. She wants good influence on my mates.” He finishes. Mary snorts and Lily furrows her brow.

“Well, _you_ are an excellent influence on people, Rem.” Lily says. And it’s the most absolute truth: Remus made people feel like they should be better to other people.

“And Lily’s definitively _not_ that much of a good influence, let’s be honest here,” Mary adds. Remus laughs, but Lily rolls her eyes.

“I was very good to you, MacDonald.”

“Eh, just a bit. Couldn’t get worse, could I?”

Before Lily replies that, _actually, it could_ , Remus interrupts with his kind smile again, “anyway, it’s her 70th birthday, so my mate decided to throw her a huge party by himself.”

“Wait, it’s her 70th birthday? And you let me leave dressing like this?!” Lily squeaks, looking at her simple dress and heels.

“Don’t worry, Prongs said it wouldn’t be like, suit and all that. Look at me.”

To be fair, Remus wears simple trousers and a buttons-down shirt with a tie.

“You look great, Lil,” Mary pipes in.

“So how old is your friend anyway? If his mum is turning 70.” Lily asks curiously, lowering the sun blocker to get access to the mirror and check her make-up.

“He’s a couple months younger than you, actually,” Remus explains, “he was sort of a miracle, because she got pregnant of him in a very old age. It’s why he’s such a spoilt brat, but we just ignore that usually.”

As promised, the house Remus parks in front of screams of fanciness, and Lily once again wonders if she’ll be underdressed. Mary assures her once again that she looks just fine, and Remus leads them both to the backyard, where there are some tables scattered around, a mini bar near a pool, and what looks like an improvised dance floor.

Looking up as if asking help from above, Lily follows Remus and Mary, choosing to sit on a swing while Remus goes for some drinks and Mary stands with her.

Lily feels her phone vibrating and sighs as she looks at the screen and sees it’s a message from Severus.

“Oh, hell no, Lily Evans!” Mary exclaims, trying to take her phone away. “You’re _not_ moping around about because of that idiotic arse!”

“I’m not _moping around_ , Mary! I’m just understandably sad about losing my oldest friend.” Lily replies. Mary sighs.

“Well, of course I understand you’re sad about it, but… it’s like this. When you remember the good times, remember why you told him to fuck off. Don’t get hung up on him, Lil. He’s a bit of a scumbag-”

“Just a bit?” Lily pipes in.

“- a lot more than a bit, but I was trying to be a sensitive here, and you’re better off without him.” Mary says. “What’s he even saying anyway?”

“Says he didn’t mean to call me a slut. That we should talk because he misses me. To meet up at his place, sans Trash Troup for real this time.” Mary rolls her eyes. She’s heard that before.

“Well, I think you should block him on everything.”

Lily sighs and nods.

“Maybe you’re right.”

Mary smiles a bit and goes after Remus and the drinks, but Lily knows that deep down Mary wants to give her some time.

Her petit friend is right; Lily should block Severus from her life, as a whole. She had given a free pass to him for far too long. With another sigh, Lily opens her Instagram and deletes the photos she had with Severus, and blocks him. Then on Facebook, Twitter and finally on WhatsApp, where he had been the worst.

“Creep or ex?”

Lily swirls the swing 180 degrees, searching for the source of the voice – it’s a tall man with jet black and messed hair, wearing a pair of round glasses.

“I beg your pardon?” She asks. The man smirks.

“Well, it’s just I came over because you seem rather lonely, and I couldn’t help but notice you just blocked this dude on a million different social media, so…” Lily raises an eyebrow at the man, trying to ignore the glint of fun that shines on his eyes.

“So this means you were looking at what I was doing over my phone?” She completes, a tone of accusation clear on her voice. Instead of looking ashamed, the man simply grins. “Have you ever heard of something called privacy?”

“I’m truly sorry, it’s just it’s a bit odd to see a pretty girl such as yourself sitting so far away from this marvellous party, on her phone, on Facebook even, so I got a little curious.”

“I could be engaging on a tirade against bigotry,” Lily suggests, shrugging. The man smirks again.

“You could, but you weren’t. Which makes me return to my question.”

“Hm, I’m sorry, but I feel like _you_ are being the creep after all,” she says.

It’s kind of funny because she reckons she knows him from somewhere. His face is familiar, but she can’t quite put it together – she’s terrible with names and faces.

“Touché,” he admits, grinning. He points to the swing besides Lily, “can I sit here? I feel like I should prove I’m not a creep at all, just fell prey to the great curiosity that sometimes takes upon even the best of people.”

Lily shrugs. To be honest, she doesn’t want company, but feels it could be rude to ask him to leave. So he sits on the swing, using the chain as a support for his head.

“Enjoying the party?” He asks.

“Not much,” she replies simply, looking down at her phone and wondering if there’s anything else she could do to get away from Sev.

“Why’s that?” He asks, and Lily fails to see his raised eyebrows because she’s still staring at her phone.

“Well, for starters, what sort of party is this anyway?”

“It’s a birthday party!”

“How would one know?” She says, looking at him. He’s got a puzzled face about him she finds a bit endearing. “I mean, where’re the balloons? The cake? The ‘happy birthday’ somewhere on this party?”

“Maybe the cake’s inside waiting for the right time,” he suggests, fixing his glasses that had gone askew. _Really_ endearing.

“See, that’s just no right. Birthday cakes were meant to be displayed, not hidden. Someone picks a birthday cake thinking how it’s going to look on the party, you know?”

“Not always. D’you know how expensive cakes can be nowadays?” He hits back.

“Didn’t this bloke throw the party to his mother? Look at this house. Money certainly isn’t an issue on this family, right? So why be cheap on his _mother’s 70 th birthday party_? From what I hear he must be loved oh so dearly, so why not retribute kindly?”

This wins her a sweet smile from him, so sweet that she’s got to hold herself as to not smile back.

“Okay, point taken. What were the other flaws?”

“Well, balloons, obviously,” she states matter-of-factly, “how can this be a birthday party without a single balloon? I repeat, how would one know it’s a birthday, huh?”

“Maybe if the read the invitation they’d know,” he replies cheekily, causing Lily to roll her eyes.

“That’s so _not_ the point. It’s a birthday! You’ve got to _show_ it’s a birthday!” Lily exclaims, looking at him.

_So, so fit._

“Maybe this lad wanted to do a fancy party, considering it’s his mother’s 70th.”

“Huh, I hear you, but I _must_ disagree,” she tuts, causing him to bark a laugh, “if he wanted it to be fancy so much, what’s with this semi-formal-wear thing? I mean, it took me about 30 minutes to get dressed. I came because my mate told me this lad’s mum wouldn’t allow him in if I didn’t come, I was spiralling at home because of my creep-slash-ex, and I still managed to get dressed in 30 minutes. Were this a really fancy party, I’d be so underdressed I’d crawl home crying out of shame.”

“I’d say you look brilliant anyway, were this a really fancy party,” the man replies smoothly. Lily narrows her eyes.

“I think you’re trying to get yourself inside my metaphorical pants, Mr. Creep.”

“I’d rather die than admit to such a thing,” he says, laying his hand on his chest as a promise sign.

“Don’t waste your time, tho,” she says, “as a not so good party is meant to be, I have yet to have a drink, so I won’t be drunk anytime soon.”

“One, you being sober only works on my favour – were I actually trying to get into your pants – as I’d never try anything on a drunk girl,” he says, raising his eyebrow, “and two, you’re kind of isolated, how do you expect the waiter to bring you a drink if you’re _away_ from the party?”

“The host should advise his waiters to bring drinks even to the isolated girls – you and I both know those are the kind who need to drink the most, eh?”

The man laughs at her attempt of a joke, and Lily smiles back. He’s really handsome, and a bit charming – that damn dimple she’s seeing as he laughs could _murder_ her – so she doesn’t mind his presence so much. In fact, she’s actually kept her phone away as she drags the party.

“Which brings us back to: creep or ex?” He asks again, and this time _she_ laughs.

Before she could answer, a glass of champagne is stretch at her face, and she looks up to see Remus holding drinks.

“Sorry for the delay. Had to introduce Mary to someone.” Remus says, smiling apologetically. “I didn’t mean to abandon you at all,” he says, and Lily smiles.

“It’s okay,” she assures him, “I’m not alone. I’ve been telling…” she looks at the man, who’s now smirking.

“James Potter.”

“… James Potter how this par-” she stops dead.

_Oh no._

She looks at James Potter, who’s clearly having a laugh at _her_ at the moment, and feels her face and neck blushing.

Because _of course_ she knows him. He’s Remus’s mate, James Potter. She knows his face because he’s often on Remus’s Instagram, either on selfies with their other two friends (damn her if she could remember their names now) or when James steals Remus’s phone.

“So you’ve met James, then?” Remus asks, and Lily puts her face between her hands as James laughs more. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

“Evans and I were just having a chat about how this party sucks.”

“I never said it sucked!” She says, returning the swing to its original position so she’s not facing the boys.

“You clearly stated you weren’t having fun,” James says, and she can hear his smile on his voice.

_Shit, shit, shit_.

“It’s a bit of both,” she says suddenly, “he was an old friend of mine who’s turned onto bigotry and creepy things. So we had a fallout and I was blocking him because he’s been trying to get to me, and I’m tired of this.”

She slowly turns back to James, and he’s got his eyebrows furrowed, not sporting a smile for what feels like the first time of the night.

“I _told_ you I shouldn’t leave my flat,” Lily states at Remus, who widens his eyes in surprise, and then she turns to James again, “I’m _really_ sorry, I-”

The remainder of her apology was cut by a voice approaching them.

“James Potter, you spoilt little brat, where’s my cake?”

They all turn to see a beautiful, older woman walking towards them, wearing a fancy pink dress.

“Hello, mother,” he replies drily.

“Yes, yes, hello. Where’s my cake?” Euphemia (Lily remembers the name because Remus said it earlier) turns to the other two, and Lily practically jumps up from the swing. “Oh, Remus! So _nice_ to see you!” She says, hugging Remus, who returns with a wide smile on her face. Euphemia then turns to Lily, who doesn’t know what to do and is sure her face is still all red. “And this must be your friend, Lily, isn’t it? So very nice to _finally_ meet you!” Euphemia hugs Lily too, who, a bit startled, returns the hug the best she can. “See, James, she’s really as pretty in person as she is on Remus’s pictures. Now, where’s my cake?”

Lily looks at James (who exclaimed an indignant “mom!”) raising an eyebrow, but he ignores her.

“The cake’s on the kitchen,” he mumbles. Euphemia makes a face, and Lily has to hold herself not to laugh.

“On the _kitchen_? This is a _birthday_ party! The cake must be seen!” Euphemia states. James rolls his eyes and sighs.

“Sorry, ma. Want me to get it?”

“No, I want you to be the host and show our lovely Lily our home. Remus can help me, can’t you, dear?”

Remus nods that he absolutely can help with the cake, and follows Euphemia with a wink thrown at James and Lily.

“So how come your mother knows my name?” Lily asks, sitting back down on the swing, looking directly at James (of course it was James. She knew Remus had one really handsome friend).

“Remus talks about you.” He replies, too blasé for Lily to believe. It’s her turn to smirk.

“And what was all that about me being as pretty in person?” She inquires, taking pleasure in seeing him squirm.

“Well, I _might_ have mentioned to Remus that I find you to be really pretty, and I _might’ve_ threatened him to death unless he brought you today. Only suppositions, of course.”

“Hm, suppositions, right?” Lily repeats, grinning. James looks at her and smiles back.

“She’s wrong anyway,” he continues, and looks over Lily again.

“Who’s wrong?” Lily asks.

“My mother. You look even prettier in person.”

Lily laughs at the line (a very good one, indeed), but she cannot hide her blush.

“So you _are_ trying to get into my pants!” She says. James shakes his head with a laugh.

“Not tonight, no. You don’t seem to be the type who share their bed with creeps,” he states, and Lily smiles.

“Not on first meetings, no.”

“See, I’m not completely wrong.”

“And I don’t really share my bed with a complete stranger who doesn’t even introduce himself.”

James grins, gets up, takes a few steps back to the party, then walks towards her, eyes sparkling, the messiest of hairs and the most brilliant smile he’s shared this night.

_Oh no_ , Lily thinks again, because she knows that the knots on her stomach are a direct reaction to the spoilt little brat.

“Hello, nice to meet you!” He says, offering her his hand. She grins back. “My name is James Potter, and I really suck at throwing parties to my mother.”

She shakes his hand, and doesn’t mind the least when he seats again on the swing besides her and doesn’t let go of her hand, intertwining their fingers instead.

“Nice to meet you, James Potter. I’m Lily Evans, and I’m _great_ at fixing ruined parties. Where’s the nearest market? I think we need some balloons in here.”


End file.
